


Unexpected Results

by Fulcrumisthebomb



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Fluff, M/M, drunk robots are hilarious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/pseuds/Fulcrumisthebomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red Alert nicks a few unattended rations, thinking that'll teach them a lesson to leave cubes out like that. Unfortunately one of them has been tampered with, and Red Alert rapidly loses his inhibitions... in a high-profile meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Results

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grimcognito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimcognito/gifts).



> Set in an AU where Red Alert and Inferno have arrived on Earth in Transformers: Prime and are a part of the team- though, technically, could be read from a G1 perspective as well.
> 
> The artwork of the blushing Red Alert was a giftart from grimcognito, and is posted here with her permission. Thank you hun! <3

Bumblebee and Smokescreen were fighting again- _play-fighting,_ Red Alert internally corrected with a hint of curiosity. The first few times he'd walked in on the two bots yelling and punching and rolling around the rec room, he'd panicked and hit the base alarm. Now he watched with detached interest as he carefully made a wide circle around their area of contact. Though he was relatively certain the two were not interested in forming a casual or otherwise relationship, he could not understand how this was an enjoyable exchange between friends. He had never willingly raised fist or weapon against someone else for _fun._ He and Inferno had _never_ fought like this- indeed, they rarely fought even verbally at all anymore.

Amateurs. Had he ever been that young and- and _silly?_ Primus forbid; he had his relaxation and teasing with Inferno, but that was the only outlet, the only vulnerability he allowed himself. Doing something public like this would be _unthinkable._

Passing the last table on his hasty trip through, Red spied twin cubes abandoned at the places where the two younger bots usually sat. Speaking of being impulsive...

Grinning impishly, he swiped them both and made off with his prizes at a run. That'll teach those two to leave rations unguarded!

~*~*~*~*~

Inferno had looked mildly surprised to have a cube slid toward him as Red Alert sat down at the meeting, but one look at the triumphant smile explained plenty for the large mech. He gulped it down just as Optimus entered the room, nudging Red Alert to do the same. Red grimaced at the taste- it must have been sitting out for quite some time- then settled in to listen.

Listening was something Red Alert was usually very good at; he _loved_ meetings, as they were one of the few social gatherings he felt completely at ease in. He had authority, he had knowledge, he had Inferno, and he almost always could supply any answers requested. He was thrilled to be there, even though he'd been to dozens and dozens before with Team Prime.

Today, however, was a bit... different.

The first indication was the dulling of his sensory input; only by 0.2%, but even that tiny fraction made a large difference with Red's hypersensitive frame. Voices sounded softer, somehow, as if the sounds were rounded at the edges. Edges of what, though? Did sounds _have_ edges? Red giggled at the idea.

Optimus fell silent mid-sentence, blinking at the security director. "Excuse me, Red Alert, did you have something to add? I am sorry, sometimes I fear I speak over you-,"

Red Alert smiled, a startling open gesture that made Ratchet gasp across the table. "You sound round."

"Red?" Inferno leaned forward, gripping his shoulder to turn his bondmate toward him. "Are ya okay?"

"So do you," Red mused as he was swiveled in his seat, his small hands immediately reaching up to pet Inferno's face. A louder chorus of gasps echoed around the room. "An you're not s'bright anymore, 'Ferno. Soft red. Grey red? How _funny._ You're still th' prettiest, th' prettiest mech in th' room~"

Ratchet had bolted out of his chair before Red finished his singsong admiration, scanning the smaller mech. Inferno's optics had cycled as wide as they could from fear and embarrassment. "Red, what's wrong? Why're ya talkin' like that?! Doc?"

"Ratchet?" Optimus prompted, half-risen from his seat.

The medic paused, glaring at the clearly non-sparking audial horns, then dropped his gaze to the finished cube abandoned on the table. He grabbed it and swiped a hand along the rim, tasting the tip of his fingers.

"What's wit' _him?_ " Red Alert whispered loudly as he leaned into Inferno's frame. "S'already gone."

Inferno was panicking by this point, gathering Red Alert in his arms protectively as he looked up at Ratchet. "What? What is it? Is he _poisoned?_ Is he _infected?_ "

Ratchet's concentration relaxed into a wry smile, optics shuttering briefly as he gave a short laugh. Inferno was infuriated by this sudden shift and pushed roughly on the medic's arm.

_"What's wrong with my Red?!"_

"He's overcharged," Ratchet replied calmly. "Who gave him this cube?"

"Fightin'," Red Alert mumbled against Inferno's chassis. "Bee 'n Smosee- Smokeskee- Smoke... somethin'."

"Overcharged...?" Inferno's confusion shifted rapidly into anger. " _Another_ prank?! Don't they know when enough is enough? Sir, I _demand-,_ "

"Shhhh," Red Alert murmured, shimmying up in Inferno's hold to press feathery kisses along his jaw. "Don't be mad, sweetspark, jus'.. _mmm._ " He wiggled, using his leverage to press down into Inferno's palm. "Keep touchin' my aft like that, s'nice."

Several vocalizers cleared loudly about the room. Inferno's fury broke as his engines whined in chagrin.

"Oh _Pit ta Primus,_ Red, not- not _here._ "

Ratchet turned to glance at Optimus; to everyone else, their Prime looked worried, but Ratchet knew him better than any mech alive. He could see the hint of amusement in the way Optimus returned the look. "Permission to exit the meeting and bash Bee and Smokescreen's heads together 'til my hands get tired?"

"And permission to destroy the recordin' of this meetin' 'fore Red sees it," Inferno added hastily as he stood to leave.

"Permission granted," Optimus intoned with a crack of a smile. "The meeting is suspended."

~*~*~*~*~

No one commented on Inferno's submitted request for a bottle of Wheeljack's highgrade the next week.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
